Tangled Past (8 page)

“Jackson, please.” Her voice was low and husky, her plea unmistakable as her hands clenched his hair as though she thought she might float away if she didn’t hold tight.

“I gotcha.”

A second finger joined the first, pumping slowly against her sensitive front wall. He continued the movement with his fingers, concentrating on driving her wild with his tongue, teasing that sensitive nerve bundle until her body stiffened. She didn’t scream her release like some of the women he’d bedded, but the sounds she was making could probably be heard clear down to the kitchen.

They were definitely being felt clear down to his balls. As soon as her legs relaxed, he withdrew his hand. He positioned the head of his cock and slid into her warm, still-pulsing pussy.

His breath caught in his throat when her muscles clamped around his shaft, holding him in. Holy hell in a bucket, that first wave hadn’t been her climax. That had just been the lead-up.

His world reduced to the bed, to Sarah’s face scrunched up and eyes closed as she rode out her orgasm. Sweet mercy, he couldn’t stop himself from rearing up and thrusting deeper, withdrawing and plunging deep again. Her legs wrapped tight around his hips, her arms straining to drag him down to her.

Their lips fused together, her hands streaking over him, touching, exploring until he was mindless. He’d never known such a craving. Both his and hers. He drove her, ruthless in his quest to watch her—feel her—orgasm again. When she bucked beneath him, demanding more, urging him to be rougher, harder, he growled and complied.

No wilting miss, not his Sarah. She was his match. Strong. Vital. Challenging. She gave as good as she got, her fingers digging into his ass cheeks. The bite of pain from her fingernails threatened to send him over the edge, but he was damned if he’d come without her.

He moved from her neck where he’d buried his face to her breast and captured one of those dark plump buds with his teeth, nipping just enough that it might sting for a bit. He flattened his tongue and soothed the sting, then repeated the process all over again until her body stiffened beneath his. One thrust, another and she shattered, taking him with her.

Chapter Five

Horses and carriages filled the town square that had been almost empty when Sarah had ridden through it the week before. Farmers stood in groups, no doubt talking about last year’s crops or perhaps speculating about the upcoming season. A dozen stalls had been set up in the center by a few hopeful peddlers braving a brisk wind, winter’s final gasp.

Once Nate stopped the carriage, he jumped down and tied off Bandit. Sarah clambered from the carriage and stood beside him. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “The dress shop is half a block down. After you’ve been fitted, I need to stop off at the mercantile to put in an order. Then we can wander around the market stalls.”

He was so naturally good-natured she had to smile. “It was really nice of you to bring me into town today.”

“I had to come in anyway.” He ducked his head. “Besides, both Miss Martha and Jackson made me promise to make sure you buy some new gowns. And they’re powerful hard people to ignore when they get an idea in their heads.”

Jackson. Would she ever get to a point where she didn’t feel like the third person in the relationship? “You’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

Nate stopped walking and turned to face her. “Of course—he’s my best friend. But I would have offered to bring you along anyway.”

He would have brought in a stranger if he’d been asked, she realized. She’d hit him and kneed him. And then taken his best friend—his lover—from him. “When I came into the barn that night I had no idea I’d end up coming between you. I’ve not had a chance to apologize to you for that.”

He glanced away, his expression shuttered. “It was probably for the best. He’s the only man who I’ve ever felt
that way
about, and I was starting to take chances around him that I shouldn’t have. I don’t blame you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He met her gaze once more. How many men would have been so honest with her about himself?

“But make no mistake, Sarah,” he continued, “I would have been proud to have stood beside the preacher with you if McLeod had let me. I would have tried to be a good husband to you.”

His sincerity warmed her heart. She thanked whatever had led them to the McLeod ranch that day. If they hadn’t, she’d never believed men such as them existed.

As they started walking toward the dressmakers, Sarah wondered what it would be like to have married Nate instead of Jackson. He was good natured and would have treated her kindly, she was certain. He was definitely handsome though in a different sort of way than Jackson, whose rugged looks created a charm of their own.

Nate had dressed for town, abandoning his farm clothes. His fashionable wool great coat must have set him back quite a few dollars, as had his tooled leather boots. But he wore them so casually she hadn’t felt like a drab little mouse, until a woman wearing a moss-green silk gown beneath a matching velvet cloak stopped in front of them.

“Good mornin’, Mr. Campbell.” She twirled a lacy parasol that matched the ivory bows on both her cloak and her bonnet. This was the type of woman Nate deserved to walk down the street with.

“Afternoon’, Miss Eliza.” Nate tipped his hat at the woman. Sarah wondered that he didn’t smile back at the woman, and at the way his arm tensed beneath her fingers. “Miss Eliza Owens, may I introduce you to Mrs. Sarah Kellar, Jackson’s wife, and a good friend of mine.”

“Jackson’s
wife?
” The woman’s gaze was sharp, matching her tone. “At least he’s given up chasing after us God-fearing white women and sticking to his own kind.”

“Shrew,” Nate muttered just loud enough for Sarah to hear.

Heartened by Nate’s comment, Sarah stiffened her spine and met the woman’s cool gaze. She’d be darned if she’d say it was a pleasure to meet this harridan.

“If you’ll excuse us, Miss Eliza.” Nate covered Sarah’s hand with his and led her away, leaving the woman staring after them. “Sorry about her, Miss Sarah. Most folk in Barnett Springs aren’t so narrow-minded.”

“I’m used to it, don’t worry about me.” His annoyance on her behalf made it easier to slough off.

“Let’s get you out of this wind. That coat’s not fit for this weather.” Nate sheltered her with his body and led her to a store proclaiming the latest in ladies’ fashion. “Miss Martha said you needed new gowns, and she’s right. So we’re not leaving here until you buy at least three.”

He signaled to a clerk, who hurried to their side. Sarah gaped when he gave the clerk instructions to bring out a variety of her best fabrics and patterns for them to examine.

Horrified at the amount of money the fabrics would cost Jackson, Sarah turned to the woman now in the process of measuring her. “Just show me some plain fabrics. Some cottons and wools. I can make my own dresses.”

With a sideways glance at Nate, who nodded, the clerk pulled out bolts of fabric that Sarah deemed much more affordable. Once she’d made her choice, Nate led her to the mercantile. While he placed an order for some new pump he claimed could be installed in the house, she fingered a pair of soft kid gloves decorated with a finely embroidered spray of violets. The pair she wore, though repaired in multiple places, were serviceable enough for a while longer, she decided, trying to ignore the stab of regret when she put them down. She wandered to a display of women’s hats, where she fell in love with a totally impractical velvet bonnet adorned with ruched silk ribbons and a jaunty ostrich feather.

“You should buy it,” Nate encouraged, startling her from her dreams.

She shook her head. “It’s too expensive. The one I have may be plain, but it’s warm.”

He huffed in exasperation. “Jackson’ll be upset to find you’ve not bought anything but cheap cottons and rough wools. He can afford it, you know. That’s why he wanted you to come with me into town.”

“I don’t need fancy things, Nate. What I’ve ordered shall do me just fine.”

“Then at least let me buy you that pair of gloves you were admiring.”

He’d been watching her try them on? She glanced back at the gloves, sorely tempted, but shook her head. “I don’t need anything more. But I thank you for your offer. It was very kind.”

“You are one of the stubbornest women I’ve ever met.” He checked his pocket watch and stared at the sky. “It’s going to rain. Maybe even snow. We’ll have to come back to the market next month.”

Once again he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her back to the square. As they approached the carriage, they had to step around three men admiring Bandit.

“That sure is a mighty fine lookin’ stallion you’ve got there, Campbell. How much would you charge for him to cover my Ladybird?” A heavy-set man with a greying handlebar moustache stroked Bandit’s neck, his eyes bright in appreciation.

“Well, now, it’s not me you should be talking to, Colonel. Bandit is Miss Sarah’s horse.”

Sarah jerked in astonishment. “But you—”

“Tell you what, Colonel, why don’t you come out to the Circle Star, and she and her husband can discuss stud fees with you tomorrow morning?” Grinning at Sarah, who raised an eyebrow at him, Nate touched the brim of his hat and handed her into the carriage.

Once they were trotting down the road, Sarah tugged at Nate’s arm. “Why did you say Bandit’s mine? You bought him from Mr. McLeod. I know what you paid for him. He’s yours.”

“No, he’s yours. Always has been.”

“You can’t just give away something that valuable. And not to me, another man’s wife. What would people think?”

“Aw, hang what others think. I can give you anything I want.” He held up a hand when she started to object. “You’ve been nothing but gracious to me and Jackson, especially considering what you saw that night.”

“So this is about my silence?”

“No!” He gentled his voice. “This is about you being my best friend’s wife. Think of it as a wedding present, if it makes you feel better. Take his stud fees and put them towards whatever you want. That hat you liked, maybe.”

A wedding present. And with the stud fees Bandit could bring, she could afford more than one hat. There had to be some catch. “What do you get out of it?”

“I get the pleasure of seeing a good woman smile.”

Her eyes searched his, deep unfathomable pools that held no judgment, and no expectation of something in return. She leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Then both Jackson and I thank you for your wedding present. You’re a good man, Nathaniel Campbell.”

A good man? A
good
man, Nate told himself, wouldn’t be jealous of his best friend. A good man wouldn’t be picturing turning his head and capturing his best friend’s wife’s mouth and kissing her senseless.

The sun hung low on the horizon by the time they returned to the Circle Star ranch. Jackson waited for them on the front porch. He strode down to meet them, lifting Sarah from the carriage.

Jackson hefted the bundle from the dress shop and tucked it under his arm while escorting Sarah into the house. Nate kept his lids lowered in an attempt to hide how he watched the gentle swing of Sarah’s skirts. It wouldn’t do to be caught ogling another man’s wife.

He hadn’t lied when he said he would have been proud to take his vows as her husband. Though it left him disturbed that he still fantasized about being in bed with Jackson, Sarah had been appearing in those fantasies lately.

While the couple disappeared upstairs, Nate headed for the kitchen. He paused at the tiny bouquet of flowers in a cup by Sarah’s chair. Neither of them had missed the tears sparkling in Sarah’s eyes when Jackson had picked a flower the first day they were on the road and handed it to her. Though she’d not said anything, they’d both figured no one had ever given her flowers before. Each day since, Jackson had made it a habit of bringing her a flower home, sometimes delaying their return from the fields to find one.

Maybe that’s why he’d purchased the gloves she’d tried on, and that silly hat with its feather bobbing high in the air. And a heavier cloak—not a fancy one like Eliza had worn, but a serviceable one he knew would keep the wind and the rain away from Sarah. All right, and maybe he’d gone overboard by ordering three dresses special-made, but the fabrics she’d purchased were too plain, too dreary She needed pretty things. She deserved pretty things.

Now he just had to hope Martha would understand the note he’d sent her to accompany the delivery of his purchases.

His stomach grumbling, he’d set the table and was about to call them for dinner by the time Sarah and Jackson joined him.

Sarah stopped in the middle of the room, her mouth dropping briefly as she stared at the table. “Was Martha here earlier?”

“Nope.” Nate felt his color rise in his cheeks as he held her seat for her. What did she think he was? Helpless? “You think I ain’t capable of settin’ a table or makin’ dinner?”

“No, of course not.”

He remembered that none of the McLeod men had lifted a fat finger to serve themselves when they’d stayed over, instead insisting Sarah serve them like she was a goddamned servant. It rankled that she might lump him in the same category as those louts.

“A couple of Rangers stopped in earlier.” Jackson straddled his chair beside Sarah and stabbed his fork into the cold slab of Sunday’s roast beef Nate had placed in front of him. “Said they’ve heard back from Barnett and his boys. Looks like there have been other reports of other farmers who made a deal with McLeod, only to have their cattle or horses stolen from them afterward.”

Nate grabbed the coffee jug and poured himself a mug. After a moment’s thought he filled mugs for Jackson and Sarah as well and set them in front of them before taking his seat at the table. “Why hadn’t the local sheriff cottoned onto their game before?”

“Looks like they targeted non-locals and attacked their targets on county boundaries. No one had put it together before. They went to the ranch to question McLeod but he weren’t nowhere to be found.”

He’d grown to enjoy dinner time, using the opportunity to surreptitiously observe both Jackson and Sarah.